


My name is.

by Catherinefiremancer



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alcoholics Anonymous, Community: NCIS Fanfiction Addiction, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22117546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catherinefiremancer/pseuds/Catherinefiremancer
Summary: There are many ways an addict comes to realise their addiction, the journey to recovery is long, difficult and often lonely. Travelling that road with the support of others can help.
Relationships: Anthony DiNozzo & Jethro Gibbs, Anthony DiNozzo/Jethro Gibbs
Comments: 8
Kudos: 54





	My name is.

**Author's Note:**

> To those with addictions, my hope is that this does not cause you pain, I have seen addiction from the outside. 
> 
> I have only experience of the AA program from television and would be glad to take advice on any aspect.
> 
> Finally, this is my first published piece of fanfiction and it hasn't been beta'd. I would be grateful of help as I'm dyslexic and British.  
> Thank you

Assessing all the information laid out before him it was known the right time to track down where a group was meeting.

Indecision and avoidance finally leading to planning including several false starts, that resulted in looking through free papers, flyers and at the crumpled-edged sheets of A4 white paper that someone had stapled to random telegraph poles.

It was a few weeks later at a crime scene that he finally saw one whose information contains all he needed.

Glancing, to see where his team are, he carefully tore off one off the printed tabs from the sheet's bottom edge and slipped it into his wallet. Taking care to slide it carefully between the two photos which were tucked away safe from any casual glance.

Later that evening he sat next to his partner, in his hands the now softened slip of paper moved minutely an action which emphasised their tremor as he waited. He held the younger man's eyes for a few long seconds, looking deep within them, searching them before turning his attention back to looking at the number.

'Call it.'

There was no censure or condemnation in the voice, nor was there pity, for he didn't think he could deal with pity.

A hand combed through his hair finishing in an embrace of his cheek and the pad of a thumb stocked along his cheekbone. It's slow rhythm helping to reduce his anxiety.

'Call it, I believe in you sweetheart.'

Closing his eyes he inhaled, picked-up his cell phone and pressed send.

-x- -x-

It took almost an hour to arrive in the small town, that was fighting hard to prevent itself from being consumed by the city.

The small gardens they passed were mainly well-tended, which could maybe be a sign, some insight into the hearts of the people. Although wasn't late, the streets were mostly empty, but the few bright neon signage of the bar, pool hall and local store added garishly to the evening's sunset.

The directions he'd been given over the phone we're simple to follow and soon the truck was pulled alongside a row of other vehicles parked outside the town's church hall.

His heart was beating fast as he looked at the stone and clapperboard siding. Of all the dangerous and high pressure situations he had been in during his life this evening was causing him more anxiety than any of them.

Lost in trying to slow his heart rate, he started as a hand was placed on his thigh and gave a little squeeze showing his support and acknowledging how hard this was on his passenger.

Until they were sure of their surroundings anything more than a grasp of each other's shoulders would have to wait. Things were changing, but these changes didn't always reach these small towns.

They left the warmth of the truck, their breath freezing in the air as they walked towards the double doors. A utilitarian light shone above it and the group of smokers that usually clustered about similar entryways on any number of cookie cutter buildings were conspicuously absent here.

Choosing the right time to slip in as a stranger and mostly unseen by others was an art form and something they both excelled in but wasn't really necessary for this situation.

So by his watch, they had about 10 minutes or so before it started, settle in at the back and then they could watch the other group members taking their seats. When they pushed through the heavy outer doors they entered into a broad room with iron coat hooks above plain wooden benches running down the outer walls towards and towards two internal doors. The year's of use shone through the polished surfaces and the smell of lavender wax polish in the overheated air proof of that care.

The younger man opened the doors and guided his partner through.

Inside the main hall, the whole space was brightly lit by the fluorescent lights up in the rafters. The mixture of the small raised stage, scuffed, colourful multiple court markings, basketball hoop and stacked furniture showed some of the many ways the hall was used.

This evening, a dozen or so chairs were arranged in a tight arc as though someone was trying for something in-between a formal row and potentially off-putting share all circle. Several people were sat randomly while others stood quietly chatting as they helped themselves to coffee or cookies.

Only one person turned to look as they took a few steps in from the closing door. The man could only be regarded as unassuming, average height, average build, with a receding hairline.

He smiled as he approached them.

'Evening gentleman, welcome to the group.'

He gave them the basics of the group, the rules were few but expected to be followed and ended by directing him towards the refreshments table with a comment about the strong coffee.

Carrying enough coffee to see them through the evening, the doughnut was more a hope that appetites would return, they sat down nearest the door.

He could feel every muscle tense in expectation of what was to come. Nausea kept threatening to overwhelm him, the only comfort was that he knew should he vomit nothing would be forthcoming, he hadn't felt like eating for a while. Thankfully sipping at the remarkably strong coffee helped.

'Welcome everyone, let's start.'

Neither man knew how much time had passed. People had spoken and topics had been discussed.

Feeling this was it he looked to his left and made eye contact with his partner needing to draw on his strength too for this. With legs that felt as if they would never hold his weight, he rose.

'My names Leroy Jethro Gibbs and I'm an Alcoholic.'

As he dropped back onto his chair he was enveloped in two strong arms that held him rocked him as he cried onto his partner's shoulder.

In the background the sound of others welcoming him to Alcoholic Anonymous.


End file.
